Crave the Night: A Midnight Breed Novel (17 page)

For all he knew, Jordana could be in the crosshairs already.

Holy fuck. If Cass had put Jordana in harm’s way, intentionally or otherwise—

A murderous flare of rage shot through Nathan at the thought, a deep protective instinct that he had no right to feel where the Darkhaven female was concerned. Still, the ferocity of his emotion stunned him.

But his fury was self-directed too.

He’d let Jordana walk away from him tonight. Hell, he’d all but shoved her away.

Bad enough he’d let jealousy and stung pride rule his warrior’s logic in neglecting to debrief a possible intel source. But in allowing Jordana to leave the crime scene, he’d left her completely unprotected, should Cass’s killer trace the Atlantean’s steps back to his visit to the museum.

That logical part of him that had been missing earlier tonight tried now to remind him that Jordana likely wasn’t without a Breed male to keep her safe from imminent harm. She had her de facto mate to protect her—a choice she’d willingly made last night.

As if Elliott Bentley-Squire were capable of looking after a woman like Jordana.

She needed a better male, a stronger male. The kind of male who would throw down his life for her in an instant.

The kind of male who would have leapt on Nathan last night and pounded him into a bloody pulp for the liberties he’d taken with her in that elevator.

Nathan snarled low under his breath. Told himself the current of urgency coursing through him was more about protecting a potential Order asset than assigning himself as a personal bodyguard to the woman he craved so fiercely, so unwelcomely.

The woman who just a short while ago had insisted she wanted nothing more to do with him, and rightly so.

As the JUSTIS officers cleared the crime scene and packed up the body, Nathan ordered his team to report back to base. Then he pivoted away and began to stalk across the dark pavement.

Rafe jogged after him. “What’s going on?”

“Jordana,” Nathan stated simply. “She was the last person to see Cass alive.”

“Jesus,” Rafe muttered. “Are you sure? How do you know that?”

“She told me. Cass showed up at the museum this afternoon. She spoke with the bastard.”

Rafe frowned. “About what? Why the hell would he go there?”

Nathan kept walking. “That’s what I intend to find out.”

“You mean
we
,” Rafe said. “As in the Order. As in we call this in to Headquarters and let them decide how best to proceed with the female.” When Nathan didn’t respond, Rafe grabbed his shoulder. “Jordana Gates is a civilian and a potential intelligence lead now, Nathan. You know the protocol on something like this.”

Yeah, he did.

He knew Order procedure and protocol inside and out. Hell, he’d lived and breathed it for most of his life. But that didn’t keep his feet from moving in the opposite direction of what he knew was the right and proper thing for a warrior to do.

“Holy shit,” Rafe murmured. “You really care about her.”

Nathan didn’t have the patience to try to deny it. Not that his friend would believe him, even if he wanted to pretend it was true.

All that mattered in that moment was getting to Jordana, making sure she was safe.

“Dammit, Nathan. You know I have a duty to report this.”

Nathan picked up his pace. He heard Rafe’s curse behind him, low and incredulous, in the instant before Nathan vanished into the darkness.

The teakettle started to howl in the kitchen as Jordana sat on her sofa, sweeping fresh tears from her cheeks. The sweet ending of the romantic comedy she was watching shouldn’t have inspired more than a smile or a satisfied sigh, yet as the credits rolled, she was about two seconds away from breaking down into a full sob.

Not that the movie was what had her so emotionally on edge. She’d been shaken up since she arrived home tonight. The long bath she’d taken when she first got there had helped calm her nerves, but she didn’t think she would ever be able to purge the memory of what she’d encountered outside La Notte.

She had cried inexplicably for Mr. Cassian—for Cassian Gray, or whatever his true name was. She’d never been so close to death before, and she hated that the kind man she’d spoken with had met such a seemingly senseless, violent end.

No matter what he’d apparently done for a living, the odd stranger Jordana had found inside the exhibit had appeared to be a decent, interesting person. What he could have possibly done to earn the death he’d been dealt tonight, she couldn’t imagine.

Sniffling as she got up from the sofa, Jordana padded barefoot to the kitchen to rescue the whining kettle. She had donned lavender silk pajamas after her long soak in the tub. Beneath a loosely tied matching robe, the light tank and shorts felt cool against her bare skin as she trekked through the empty apartment.

Carys and Rune had checked in on her a short while ago, practically insisting that she come out with them and not sit around the penthouse by herself. But alone time had been just what Jordana had wanted. Except now she felt a sudden, keen ache for the comfort of family. She longed for the reassurance of her father’s protecting arms.

Martin Gates would welcome her back to his Darkhaven anytime; she knew that. She also knew that going home would only make her father try to persuade her to move back in permanently. And that was a conversation she didn’t want to have with him again. Especially not tonight, when learning where she’d been and what had happened would send him into a fit of worry.

Although the wealthy Breed male had brought her up selflessly as his daughter from the time she was an infant, providing her with anything she could possibly ever need in life, Martin Gates could not seem to fully adjust to the idea that Jordana had become an adult woman. She was nearly twenty-five years old, yet he still wanted to direct her life as if she were a child.

God, her birthday
. Jordana poured a cup of tea and groaned, thinking about the trust that would become hers in less than a couple of weeks. A payoff her father held out to her as incentive to settle down and take a mate—so long as that mate was the Breed male of his choosing.

As much as she loved seeing her father, if she went home tonight, she would never hear the end of how disappointed he was that she’d rejected a fine male like Elliott. At times, his desperation seemed so great, Jordana half expected she might be physically forced into the bond with Elliott. But her father loved her too much to do something so unforgivable, no matter how deep and misguided his belief was that she needed to settle down.

Jordana had to start taking steps on her own path. Walking away from a relationship she didn’t want and couldn’t honor with her whole heart had been a good start to that goal.

Halting her dangerous attraction to Nathan had also been a step in the right direction.

A good, sensible step.

Except telling Nathan tonight that she didn’t want to see him ever again hadn’t done anything to curb how she felt about him.

She couldn’t begin to deny that she was attracted to him. After the pleasure he gave her in the elevator, her traitorous body only wanted more.

But worse than her physical need for him was her interest in him emotionally. He intrigued her. He frustrated and infuriated her.

He confused her, enflamed her, made her crave things she hardly dared think, let alone act on with anyone but him.

And he’d hurt her more than anyone ever had too. A pain that shouldn’t have surprised her so much. Shouldn’t have wounded her so deeply.

She’d felt more for Nathan in a period of a few days than she had for Elliott in all the years she’d known him.

Everything about Nathan was intense, from the rugged perfection of his face and bleak, thundercloud eyes, to the seductive power that clung to him as menacingly as the darkness of his Hunter past.

And she must be a fool of the highest order to imagine she might have gotten close to him without getting burned.

Thankfully she’d come to her senses before she’d done something really stupid, like letting him into her bed.

Or worse, letting him into her heart.

Too late for that
.

“No, it isn’t,” she muttered to herself, scolding the all-too-eager, all-too-knowing voice of her conscience.

And dammit, that merciless little voice was right. It was too late to pretend there was nothing between Nathan and her.

Too bad she was the only one feeling it.

Jordana took a sip of her tea, grimacing at the bitterness. Stirring in a large spoonful of sugar, she scowled into the swirling tendril of steam rising up from the cup. “Anyway, he’s gone now, so what does it matter?”

Her cup of tea clutched in both hands as she sipped the sweet brew, Jordana stepped out of the kitchen, back into her living room.

And felt her grip go slack as she nearly collided with six and a half feet of black leather and dark, simmering male.

Nathan caught the cup as it slid from her grasp, not so much as flinching when the hot tea sloshed over his strong fingers. Stormy eyes held her startled gaze beneath the slash of his raven’s-wing brows.

Seeing him sent a surge of emotions flooding through Jordana, but the first one to leap to her tongue was outrage. “What do you think you’re doing here?”

Damn him, he didn’t even blink. “Proving a point,” he replied, his deep growl doing all kinds of bad things to her heart rate. “This is how quickly you can go from thinking you’re safe and secure, to pushing out your last breath.”

Jordana hiked up her chin. “I thought I told you I didn’t want to see you again.”

“You did.”

He might as well have shrugged one of those bulky shoulders for the lack of apology or excuse in his tone. How dare he think he could just ignore her wishes?

“Breaking into my apartment hardly qualifies as staying away from me.”

No acknowledgment, but as he set her steaming teacup down on the sofa table next to them, his dark gaze flicked past her briefly, toward the kitchen. “Is someone here with you? Maybe I’m here at an inopportune time … again.”

“What?” She frowned, unsure what to make of that comment. Did he think Elliott was with her? “No one’s here with me. Why?”

“You were talking to someone as I came in.”

Oh, God. Talking to herself
. Trying to assure herself that if she never saw Nathan again, it would be too soon. And now here he was, standing in front of her in the middle of her apartment, questioning her like a jealous lover and making her blood race like wildfire through her veins.

“I’m here by myself. As if it’s any concern of yours,” she added, grasping feebly for anger when his dark gaze—his very presence—had her breath coming shallow and fast, her heart pounding frantically in her breast. She crossed her arms as if to contain her body’s eager reaction to him. “What do you want, Nathan?”

The corner of his mouth quirked slightly, more scowl than smile. “I doubt you really want to know the answer to that question, Miss Gates.”

Was he toying with her, getting some kind of twisted enjoyment out of her discomfiture the way he got other thrills from the women who serviced him at La Notte?

Jordana swallowed hard, half tempted to make him tell her so. But she couldn’t let herself fall back into that trap. She was nothing to him; he’d demonstrated that clearly enough last night.

“You need to leave now, Nathan. I’m not interested in playing your games, and I certainly don’t appreciate you breaking into my apartment.”

“I don’t play games,” he said, crisp and cool. “Nor did I break in. I leapt up to the balcony from the street. The slider was unlocked, which only helps to prove my point. You’re not safe. I might just as easily have been whoever killed Cassian Gray tonight.”

Shit
. She wasn’t actually in any kind of danger, was she? Dread knotted in her belly as she glanced to the slider across the room. The large glass door was locked now, the latch securely in place.

She looked back at Nathan, hating that she now had to add gratitude to the list of unwanted emotions his unannounced visit was stirring inside her.

“Haven’t you tormented me enough already?” She paced away from him, suddenly needing some distance in order to keep from leaning into his warmth. “You didn’t have to come here like this and scare me nearly to death.”

“It wasn’t my intent to scare you, Jordana.” A pause behind her, then his voice, soft but demanding. “What do you mean, I’ve tormented you enough?”

Forget it. No way was she about to explain that reckless slip of her tongue. If he didn’t know how he’d affected her since the moment their paths first crossed, then she would gladly take that knowledge to her grave.

“I want you to go,” she said, not looking back at him as she marched
barefoot across the living room toward the vestibule where the penthouse’s private elevator was located.

The elevator where less than twenty-four hours ago, Nathan had given her the most intense climax of her life.

God, she should not be thinking about that right now
.

“I told you tonight that you had to stay away from me, Nathan.”

“Yes, you did.”

He was right behind her now, so close she could feel his big body throwing off heat and coiled male power. The thin silk of her robe and pajamas was no barrier at all. From head to toe, her skin felt too exposed, seared, every nerve ending tingling and alive with awareness.

Everything female within her was tuned on him implicitly.

“I know what you told me, Jordana. I know it’s a bad idea for me to be here.” He swore under his breath. Firm hands came to rest on her shoulders and he slowly turned her around to face him. “Unfortunately for both of us, when Cassian Gray decided to spend some of the last hours of his life with you, he put you in the middle of my investigation for the Order.”

Jordana stiffened in his grasp but couldn’t quite find the will to pull herself away from the contact. “So you’re just here in an official capacity, is that it?”

“I think we both know better than that,” he answered, deliberate and calm. So maddeningly arrogant. But he drew nearer then, and the heat of him, the leather and dark spice scent of him, nearly made her moan with pleasure.